


Needs More Shakespeare (In Which Preston Writes Fanfiction)

by Vervan_Capric



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Author doesnt understand plays but knows musicals, Bad shakespeare references, Fanfiction within a Fanfiction, I just love Preston so much, Lowkey Implied Maxpres, M/M, Musical References, Not quite sin but..., OOC but on purpose, Preston Writes Fanfiction, Preston is my son, sorry for this trash, trash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-13 02:41:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11750367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vervan_Capric/pseuds/Vervan_Capric
Summary: In which Preston writes a short story featuring him and the other campers. Filled with ROMANCE, DRAMA, DEATH, and PLOT HOLES!!!Read ahead for more!(I can't summary. I swear it's not that bad. At least it's clean. The rating is just for cursing- no sin though!)





	Needs More Shakespeare (In Which Preston Writes Fanfiction)

**Author's Note:**

> Why are you reading this? This is garbage. But, if you want to read this go ahead. Beware: I don't know much about classical plays so I only added references to a few- the one's I've played characters in. Thanks for reading though! This started out seriius but I trashed it up and then rewrote it so the trash made sense.

Preston Goodplay was rather interesting. He was really interesting. He was really, really interesting. He was really, really, really- well you get the point.

Handsome. He was also handsome. But, back to the story at hand.

"So Preston," Max said, his tone as cutting and sarcastic, "Why the fuck are you here?"

Preston smirked before looking into the distance, the perfect pose for a storyteller and actor such as himself, "Well as an *actor* I knew I needed a place to cultivate my passion and help my knowledge of traditional and more recent theatre blossom!" His proud demeanor suddenly disappeared as his eyes drifted to the floor, "Sadly I got stuck here with you untalented fools where my gift is being squandered on Space Kid."

Max nodded, obviously bored with Preston's monologue. This brought up the question of why he even asked for information if he seemed to determined to not care in thr slightest.

"That sucks Preston." Harrison said before pulling a rabbit from his hat for no apparent reason, "Though none of us are talentless hacks." As an afterthought the magical kid added, "Except Nerris."

The elvish girl stuck out her tongue before going back to reading her advanced manual for the latest Dungeons and Dragons.

"Sure." Preston sighed, tired of explaining just why these people couldn't act, "You're all fucking Lin Manuel Miranda when it comes to theatre skills."

Space Kid perked up, "Wasn't he the creator of Hamlet?"

Preston's hand greeted his face with a loud slap before he groaned, "He was the creator of Hamilton, In the Heights, and 21 Chump Street. Shakespeare was the playwright behind such classics as Romeo and Juliet, Hamlet, and Taming of the Shrew."

Mint green hair bobbed as Nikki plopped herself down beside Max, she smelled faintly of applesauce and kerosene, "Taming of the Shrek?"

Again Mr. Hand said hello to Mr. Face as Preston cursed this camp and all who resided in it. Well, almost all who resided in it. He supposed some people were okay.

"No, Taming of the Shrew is what I said. A Shakespeare classic!"

"Shake pear?" They were just messing with him now. But, Preston would not allow them to tarnish the memory of his main hero and role model- besides Stephen Sondheim, Idina Menzel, and Agatha Christie of course.

"Shakespeare. William Shakespeare."

"Okay. But, was Shakespeare even that cool I mean- he spoke so weird!"

"He invented several new words and had brilliantly witty comebacks and insults in his works my dear. He was a genius!"

"No Preston, Einstein was a genius. Shakespeare was some nobody who happened to write words on paper. Not very impressive." Preston felt like his soul was on fire. Burning bright with a hatred that would make even the mightiest menaces cower in fear.

"You bitches must understand the beauty of Shakespeare. He was magnificent, intelligent, and was a gorgeous playwright. Not to mention he is my idol!"

Someone in the crowd muttered, "That sounds really gay." At that comment Preston felt his soul shatter.

"Stop with your blasted stereotyping you vile scum! Not everyone in theatre is gay and not everyone wants to hear your stupid wit!" Preston growled this all out before he turned on his heel and stormed off toward his stage, his safe haven.

"Goddamn spineless demons making fun of Shakespeare." Preston muttered out as he began to sift through his treasure trove of goodies.

At last he came to his prize- his Ipod filled to the brim with musicals.

Preston favoured himself a more classical theatre guy but, he had to admit musicals were very good too. He quickly pressed shuffle and stood up once more, his body leading him in a graceful dance to the music.

Thankfully he was lucky and was richocheted to a world of highschool murder and stupid decisions.

The opening of 'Meant to Be Yours' from Heathers the Musical blasted through his earbuds, filling his brain with more angry fuel for the fire burning inside him.

His feet barely touched the floor as he danced, sure it was a bit clumsy at points, but he was sure that if he were being watched by an audience they would be captivated. The song finally came to a close to leave him panting on the empty stage. Nothing like a good anger dance to help him relax.

He felt calmer now- more at peace and with a sigh he took out his earbuds. Still not ready to part with his music he played the music out loud, letting the sounds of West Side Story calm him.

Why not use this anger still filling his veins with acrid smoke for a story, a play, at least a poem. With the signature flair that seemed apart of Preston's very being he pulled out some paper and a pen and began to write.

"What rhymes with sniveling whores?" He questioned aloud, his words bouncing along the walls of the small, dilapidated theatre.

"Whining bores would work." Preston recognized that voice and without looking up he answered, manipulating his voice like a true actor to sound passive agressive and snide.

"Hello Maximillion, nice to see you here. Have you come to read one of my scripts?" 

A sigh sounded from behind him and Preston stifled a chuckle, 'Kill them with kindness' was his father's motto while his mother's was 'Guilt them to death'. Preston had managed to use them both. He was sure they'd be proud of him if they could see him now.

"A. My name isn't fucking Maximillion dipshit. It's just Max. B. Stop being a pretentious fuckface and come out. Everyone's afraid they've 'Offended you' and now they're afraid you're weeping bloody tears or whatever you theatre kids do. So let's go."

Preston wanted to laugh, so he did, "Wow. Golly gee Maxwell! You guys are afraid you've offended me? Well, that clears it up! I'll gladly come out. Sorry for making you all worried."

Max gave a wary look at Preston, "Are you okay Preston?" He sounded worried, perhaps scared.

Without so much as a glance toward Max Preston was out the door, "Let's go dear Max. We have friends to associate with."

Max swallowed, why did they mess with a theatre kid?

Finally the duo arrived at the campsite to find a overly cheery David and a sour faced Gwen.

"Glad you're back Preston! You had us worried there for a moment!" David exclaimed, his eyes bright and shining.

With the calmness of an eye to a hurricane Preston responded, "I'm sorry David. I'd hate to stir up trouble. But," The boy batted his eyelashes, "Could you fetch my Ipod from the theatre? I think I left it in the storage closet."

David perked up, happy to be of service, "Of course Preston! I'll have it here in a jiffy!"

Then he was off. Preston smirked, pulling out the pristine Ipod before he twirled it in his fingers and put it back in his pocket.

"You're playing with fire Preston. Maybe you need to cool down some more." Gwen said, immediately noticing Preston's odd behavior.

Preston just shrugged before motioning toward the cabin, "Or you hang in your cabin all night with some trashy romance novels. I mean, that sounds amazing too."

The counselor's eyes lit up but she quickly stood her ground, "Preston I think we need a talk."

Preston shook his head, "I'm fine Gwen. I just thought you'd like to keep your uh... Love life a secret but if you want to be exposed."

The tan counselor paled, "You wouldn't-"

With a grin the theatre kid pulled out some papers, "I would Gwendolyn. This is my rough draft of the article, though I have many, many copies of the finak draft. Maybe you would rather read a romance novel?"

Gwen frowned but walked away regardless, muttering curses to the theatre kid's very soul.

As the other campers stared at Preston in disbelief, perhaps even fear, Preston smiled, his whole demeanor shifting.

"Sorry for that guys!" He gave a large grin, "Anyway, what did I miss?"

"Nothing much."

"Yeah."

"I ate a worm."

Preston nodded his head enthusiastically, "Fascinating guys! Really and truly fascinating!"

After a moment it was Nerris who finally spoke up, "We're sorry we were so mean earlier Preston. We didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

Preston ran a hand over his fabulous hair, utterly calm, "No problem Nerris. I mean, how can I stay mad at you. I'd have to be a Level 10 asshole for that."

Nerris nodded, a smile breaking out on her face, "Yeah! You're right-"

She was cut off by Preston standing up, "In honor of this forgiving sesson I decided to reanact scenes from plays and musicals for all of you."

Gazes shifted to the small doll now clutched in Preston's hands.

"Ginny Gandalf?" Nerris squeaked out, looking at her precious unicorn plush.

"Yes!" Preston said, his smile taking on a more demented form, "Ginny here decided to reenact a scene from The Mousetrap by Agatha Christie with me. Can anyone guess what this scene is about?"

Space Kid, oblivious as always raised his hand, "I know! A romance scene!"

Preston shook his head sadly before his hands gripped the doll's frail neck, "No. This is a murder mystery. Ginny here decided to play out one if the murders. The strangulation of well, I don't want to spoil it."

Nerris squealed as she watched her doll's neck contort in odd angles, the seams coming apart in the boy's hands.

Then with a clatter the doll fell the floor, it's head hanging on by just a few strings. At least Preston wasn't as cruel as to completeky behead it.

With a bow Preston laughed, "That is Act 1 friends! Intermission! Go grab a snack while I prepare for Act 2- I feel like maybe Harrison or Neil would like to go next."

Then the theatre kid was off, whistling a tune with the rest of the campers watching him leave.

"What the fuck just happened?" Max asked them all, a look of fear frozen on his face.

"Who knew the Theatre kid would be the first of us to snap?"

*****

Act 2 was brilliant, Neil almost wept as Preston reenacted Arsenic and Old Lace by dumping what was dubbed 'Elderberry Wine' on Neil's precious computer before he shoved it in the basement while acting like Teddy Roosevelt.

Act 3 had Erid screaming in rage as Preston set a fire on her half-pipe while singing a stunning rendition of 'Rich Set a Fire' from Be More Chill- Erid's half-pipe being the house. Though Preston was not completely l evil, he put it out as soon as the first slabs of wood turned to ash.

Acts 4, 5, 6, and 7 did a similiar effect to Dolph, Harrison, Nurf, and Nikki using songs and choreography from West Side Story, In the Heights, Hamilton, and Grease respectively.

Act 8 was rather tame with Space Kid only gasping in surprise as he was shoved harshly to the ground in an homage to Dear Evan Hansen.

"Now for the final act," Preston said to his trembling crowd, "Act 9. Made especially for your leader the gracious Maximillion! Wait shortly for it to begin."

*****

Preston wracked his brain- he needed to end this but how?

Maybe something Shakespeare inspired?

He snapped his fingers as the lightbulb flickered in his mind, "Got it".

*****

Max hated to admit it, but he regretted mesing with the Theatre Kid. Sure, he meant to annoy the dude but he didn't mean to make him flip his shit.

"Why did I do this?" He asked himself aloud though after half an hour without Preston he decided to hide.

Yeah, it wasn't necessarily the bravest thing but Preston was scaring the shit out of him and he didn't like that. He missed the sweet Preston. The Preston who was overall amazing.

Max decided to hide in the area least expected- the theatre. As he slid behind the curtains to the catwalk above he resisted the urge to snicker.

Did he sleep here or something? There were was a sleeping bag in the corner of the stage and several differebt bags that he assumed were Preston's. Speaking of Preston where was he? Now wasn't the time for this- he had things to do.

He had to hide.

After several hours, or several minutes Preston entered, mumbling under his breath before he sat centerstage. Then, to Max's surprise he started crying.

Soft sniffles turned to body-wracking sobs and Max considered the fact that he may feel... Bad. Not just because Preston was being an asshole to everyone as revenge, but because they obviously hurt his feelings.

Max watched as Preston pulled out his Ipod and pressed play.

"Holy shit." This wasn't from a musical- this wasn't some obnoxious K-Pop shit- this was Gorillaz.

A band Max recommended Preston when they first met, before Max became so bitter about everyone and everything there. Okay, so maybe he was exaggerating how nice he was but still, Preston was playing something Max recommended him.

That was... Sweet.

And it was 'Melancholy Hill' I.E. Max's favourite song.

Dang it! Must resist urge to sing! Preston's voice filled the air and sure, it wasn't Ben Platt level or Idina Menzel level but he carried the tune and key well enough. Why was Max in this situation?

Soon the song changed and Max lost focus again. Moment over. That never happened. Ever. Max didn't care cause he was an asshole. Preston was an asshole.

Max felt his eyelids droop as another song, this one quieter came on and before he knew it he was asleep. When he came to he was freezing, and hungry, and immediatly frozen with fear.

He turned to his right, nothing. His left, nothing. Then he looked down.

Preston.

Preston was oozing... Oozing?

Climbing down the catwalk he found Preston coughing violently.

"M-Max?"

"What the fuck Preston?"

"I'm s-sorry for being r-rude. I-I..."

"What Preston?!" The dude was dying and Max was frozen in place.

"I l-like you."

"Not the place to say we're friends Preston! Just let me stop your bleeding!"

"I-It's too l-late Max."

"Fuck no Preston! You're not dying from bleed-itis!"

"I-I just want to s-say I l-like you. Like l-like you Max. S-sorry for this." Then he went still.

Max began sobbing, fear filling him and he screamed. He screamed and sobbed until he couldn't scream anymore.

Then, with the last shred of sanity he had left he kissed the boy he had loved so much- kissed him before he too died in his lover's arms.

The Perfect Romeo and Juliet.

The End.

*****

"What the fuck is this?" Max stared down in confusion at the paper that was given to him by the theatre loving freak known as Preston Goodplay.

"A beautifully written love story between one adorable character and one sourpuss. Did you enjoy it?" 

Max raised an eyebrow, "You wrote fanfiction about us? In a romantic relationship? Why the fu-"

Max was cut off by a pale hand covering his mouth.

"I know you hate romance and all things beautiful but please answer me honestly, do you like it?" The playwright's eyes were wide, a soft pink blush lighting his face as he looked at his friend.

Eyes roamed the paper and Preston felt his heart swell as a soft smile lit the other's face.

"This was..." The smile dropped before Max was staring straight at him- through him again, "This was trite, hard to follow, random and so out of character it was almost laughable. Your pacing was off and the ending came out of left field in all the wrong ways. I didn't understand anything and you wrote in your theatre references like I, the reader, knew exactly what you were talking about. You wrote all you D's backward and you misspelled so many things its actually laughable. There were so many plot holes as well. Where did David go anyway? He was in the theatre but when I went to the theatre he wasn't there?. Also- the romance in this? When did I, in the canon of this fic, show any care for you except the end? If you want to write a romance you have to establish the crushes from the start otherwise you get this dribble. I give it a five."

Preston gave a small smile, "Out of five?"

"No. A five out of 1,000,000,000. Though, this was better than your last one. At least this one didn't have any of your weird fetishes."

The Shakespeare enthusiast turned crimson before he sputtered out, "My love of Heathers the Musical is not a fetish! Neither is my love for Shakespeare! I just happen to enjoy both."

Max just rolled his eyes, "Sure. Keep telling yourself that. Now if you'll excuse me I have to go torment David." With a small smirk he turned away, "See ya later Preston."

Preston gave a curt nod, trying to turn off the pesky shippy thoughts, before turning back to his story. One of these days he'll get it right. 

Maybe he just needs more Shakespeare.

**Author's Note:**

> Congrats! You read this garbage! Thanks for making it this far! That's all I needed to say.


End file.
